


...And Morpheus has left us

by SkyBlitz



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Love, Fear Toxin Mentioned, Gen, How is that not a tag, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd is a good brother, Nightmares, Platonic Cuddling, Sleep Deprivation, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Touch-Starved, soft fic, these kids deserve to be lOvED
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:54:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27454585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyBlitz/pseuds/SkyBlitz
Summary: It feels like he came home while being in the protective Jason’s hands. All of his elder’s being cajoled Tim to believe that he was okay, that there was no danger, that there will be no pain and loneliness.Nobody will get hurt today.Nobody will die today.OR: Tim is a mess and sleep deprivation is not helping. Jason can relate.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 11
Kudos: 193
Collections: Tim Drake and Red Robin Stories





	...And Morpheus has left us

It was meant to be a quiet uneventful evening. By the time he arrived at the cave, it was so late, he wanted just to make it to bed and sleep 2 days in a row. He made a straight beeline to his room. 

Jason opened the door a crack and saw a huddle on the bed. He didn’t really remember him making it, only if it was the work of his dear brothers, who thought of his room as a stock room. They should know better than that to piss him off. He already bought the ugliest pink paint for a little «reconstruction”. The manor is old, the walls just need a little bit of freshness in colour, you know. Jason just hasn’t chosen which one of his brothers will win the tender. 

As he moves closer, the understanding settles down slowly: it’s not clothes, or at least not of it. Even in the darkness, he can make out an outline of a human, small one, grasping something fabric. 

“If it is one more of your idiotic pranks again, I swear to God, I will start with shaving Brat’s pets, then -“ he started maliciously and abruptly went silent as a head lifted up and faced him so quickly, Jason was certain even the owls would be jealous. 

He was met with two pair of grey-blue eyes shining strangely. With a tousled hair maid in a short ponytail. 

“Jason?..” in a voice so small and soft, the elder didn’t catch at first. 

It seems he has to put aside his revenge. For now. 

“Tim?” Jason turned on a small bedside lamp. With the warm soft light elder could see his baby brother curled into the smallest circle of limbs possible, cuddling something grey with long sleeves... his hoody?

Okay, first his room, then his bed, then his hoody. How was it again in the fairytale of Three Bears?

But it was the expression of his brother’s face that threw him. Tired lines and deep blue-ish bags under red-rimmed eyes. 

And the eyes. The tired, dull, piercing him through as if looking for something, seeking something. 

And then finally, as they seem to find it, a flicker of realization flashed. 

Jason stood paralyzed. Was it some kind of spell?

A light touch to his stomach, then to his wrist and hand. Shy fingers traced his calloused skin as if in some sort of reassurance. Then as fast as it began, Tim quickly pulled back and hugged himself tightly. It was shocking how cold boy’s fingers were. 

“You are here” he mumbled “you are..” a hiccup “here...”. Eyes rounded even more. 

Fuck, it is actually a spell, isn’t it? 

Finally snapped out of his oblivion, Jason managed to find his voice. 

“Of course I’m here, I mean, it’s still my room, and not even death can take it”

An attempt to lighten the mood was met with silence. 

“Timmy, what’s wrong? U injured or somethin’?” Protective instincts kicked in, and Jason reached out to check the boy’s temperature. And Tim leaned. 

Tim. 

Leaned into the touch. 

Well, it wasn’t that shocking, honestly, not that Tim was avoiding physical contact, but one cannot say he was an affectionate type either. 

Boy’s temperature was fine. The room was not cold. 

The moment Jason started to retreat his hand, smaller ones grasped his in a tight hold, bringing it to the other’s chest, cradling it. 

Grasping, as if he lets go, everything will crash and burn. 

And maybe it will, judging by kid’s slightly shaking frame. He curled into himself, as if in defence as if he waits for the blow: somehow he sees Jason’s other hand comes towards him, and he knows he is doomed right now and right there, and it’s all his fault, always his, and now he is going to pay for it, and he waits for the blow-

The blow that never comes. 

The hand is at the back of his head, undoing a ponytail. Dexterous fingers quickly untying hairband, and once free, they moved to the base of his head massaging slowly and deliberately all the way to his temples and forehead. 

It was too much. 

He failed, he doesn’t deserve this, he doesn’t deserve Jason’s care or touch or-

A whimper. 

The hand trapped between his hands started to move away, to escape. 

'Who wants to deal with such dirty hands of yours?' 

“Jason” he whispered “please, don’t go” 

The hand is gone, and there is nothing to feel left. Only the void. Only the sharp pieces that cut through his skin and bones and mind. The reminders of what a failure he is, what a useless and stupid being he is. 

'Do you think anybody would be willing to stay with such a disgrace?' 

But he tries! He tries and tries, just never succeeds! Just, always not good enough.. 

Only when those big hands return and start rubbing his cheeks gently, oh so, so gently, he realizes they wipe the tears away, caressing his thin nose, and sharp cheekbones, and his jaw. 

And, God, he feels alive again. Not there, not alone, not in pain and Jason is here with him, and he is — 

Oh fuck, Jason is here and —

And he starts calling out for his rebellious, wayward, reckless big brother. He tried to save him, he really did, he just needed more time and... he doesn’t really remember. Maybe it was all toxin’s fault he can’t remember. 

It was all too much. 

The broken loud wails bounced off the walls. Hoarse begging to stay and forgive and not let go. 

The bed creaked under added weight, and now hands started to draw Tim closer to something warm and familiar. Something that he would die for without a second thought. 

“Shhh, Timmy, it’s okay, baby bird, it’s alright “ God, what the actual fuck was going on. 

The kid, his kid, was sobbing his heart out. Jason was conflicted with two strong instincts: to bloodily murder the culprit slow and as much painfully as possible, and to cover his baby brother in all that frail affection he has. 

Tim’s broken sobs were the most heart-wrenching sound he ever heard in his entire afterlife. A song of a hurting soul with no way of escape from terrorizing nightmare. 

And, bloodily hell, the kid was cold as an icicle. 

“Hey, baby bird, you’re okay. Everything is okay, Timmy, shhh” he brought the kid to him, wrapping arms around him in a firm, secure embrace. Tim let his head fall on his brother’s warm broad chest, his ear over elder’s heart. 

Jason is alive. He is right here with him and holding him tightly. 

He could only remember broken pieces, his memory as a kaleidoscope of shattered fragments of bloody hands and cold unmoving body and empty eyes and silent heart. 

And a white streak of hair is wet and scarlet red. 

“Baby bird breath with me, okay? In on four, out on eight” voice soft, caring, but so untypical concerned. 

Breathing was hard, it seems as if his mind has caught him in that awful place and had no intention of releasing him. 

He was hearing Jason very well, it just the pictures in his mind’s eye that always got his attention whenever he looked for an escape. 

A squeeze of his hand. 'A signal'. To what? “Breath in” ah, that’s it, then a release — “and out”

Finally, Tim managed his ragged breathing under control. He felt a little lightheaded now, probably from the whole epopee. 

He felt as if his whole living energy was spent. A hollow shell with tired cracked soul and self-destructing mind. What a combo. 

But now he can feel the warmth from the living body and feel bright acidic green with some blue inclusion eyes fixed on him, and he can hear a song from a living heart. 

A heartbeat of strong and resilient soul, the song of a warrior. 

And that milky streak in the warm lamp's light looks like the small tongue of fire, that begins to grow on the rest of charcoal locks. 

His alive big brother is the most beautiful thing he has seen. 

It feels like he came home while being in the protective Jason’s hands. All of his elder’s being cajoled Tim to believe that he was okay, that there was no danger, that there will be no pain and loneliness. 

Nobody will get hurt today. 

Nobody will die today. 

The tension was slowly leaving the boy’s body with every breath. His mind finally clear, just extremely exhausted. He wanted to fall asleep for a month. The cruel joke was, that he knew that sleep was a snare and one that his mind will gratefully fall into. 

Tender hands once more brought him back to reality. One trailed its way from his lower back to shoulders slowly, like a snake through the desert, massaging tensed muscles and caressing popping vertebrae. Other stayed in his raven locks, rubbing his temples and stroking the neck gently, lovingly. 

He couldn’t remember the last time someone was comforting him in such a delicate way. It seems like Jason’s hand’s and voice soothe his very ragged soul. 

Tim melted under the touch. A soft tired, yet contented sigh escaped him. 

“Here you are, baby bird” Tim cracked his eyes a bit, looking up to his brother’s ones, equally sharp with attention and soft with relief and affection. The eyes of a tiger, Tim thought. “How you are feeling?”

“Not dead yet” boy closed his eyes, the weight of eyelids was too heavy to bear. 

“Yeah, and your witty ass as well, I see” Jason smirked softly. 

Some time has passed, Jason never stopped his ministrations. 

“Wanna tell your big bro anything?”

Tim barely noticeable shook his had. 

And Jason didn’t pry. He never did. Like he always knew the time and place. Jason was extremely penetrative, despite what others thought of him. 

'Bloodthirsty'. 

'Mad man'. 

'Egoist'. 

Those idiots knew nothing. 

Tim was a touch starved being, that was painfully obvious. He craved it. He treasured it. Only now Jason saw it as clear as a day. His left hand moved from the back of Tim’s head to scrub behind his ear, then his cheek, then back to the neck. Jason could swear to God, that he heard the kid began purring like a damn kitten. That made him chuckle. 

“Jay...” Tim started quietly, tiredly “ Jay, I ... thank you” and suddenly Tim was kissing the side of his jaw chastely, then as quickly, he laid his head down on the previous spot. It took Jason’s brain a whole two minutes to analyze what has happened. With the realization hit him like a train, smiling wolfishly, he tightened his embrace and returned the kiss to his brother’s crown. 

“Always, baby bird, always”

The moment Jason thought Tim was starting dazing off, the boy purposely roused himself, trying to keep his eyes open. 

“Timmy, when was the last time you slept?”

He didn’t remember. The only thing he remembers every time after closing his eyes is that heart-wrenching episode, and screams, and blood everywhere, blood on his hands but not his, never his —

“I don’t remember”

Jason laid them down, with Tim still on him, with his hands still stroking his brother’s raven locks and back. 

“Sleep, Timmbo, the only monster under your bed is now holding you close” and then in a low voice “I will guard your dreams, how’s that sounds?”

Tim only purred in satisfaction when Jason found another soft spot somewhere between his shoulder blades. 

With Jason, he always felt safer than anywhere else. 

He didn’t have nightmares that night.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for finding some time to read this small piece! I hope you enjoyed it. English is not my first language.  
> Constructive criticism is always appreciated!
> 
> Be careful and safe
> 
> with all love, SkyBlitz


End file.
